


Third Eye

by itsanniek



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Creepy Brock Rumlow, Domestic Violence, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Steve Rogers, Work In Progress, brock is a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsanniek/pseuds/itsanniek
Summary: “911, what’s your emergency?”“I need an ambulance, please, and probably some cops, too.” She winced, “Definitely some cops.”“Okay, ma’am, I’m dispatching some to your location now. I’m getting your address as 44 Mulgrave Drive, is that correct?”She huffed in assent.“Okay, good. They’ll be there soon. Can you tell me what happened, ma’am?”“Heh,” she exhaled, “my boyfriend beat the shit outta me.”-Darcy is working as a bookstore keeper/barista/one woman dream team/manager in New York City when Steve Rogers and James Barnes walk in. It doesn't take long for this simple action to dissolve Darcy's entire life, and go to shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rework of a fic I started to write ages ago of the same name.  
> I have a vague idea of where I want this to go, but it's a work in progress so WHO KNOWS WHERE IT'LL GO.

Darcy was about 5 feet up on a bookcase ladder when they walked in. She took a quick glance; two men, a blond, tall muscular guy, followed by a shorter, thinner dark-haired guy.

 

“Hey y’all, feel free to browse, or yell if you’re lookin’ for something specific,” she greeted.

 

“Thank you,” the blond one replied.

 

She continued sorting the books in front of her; she was up to the L’s, Larsson, Lewis (no relation, unfortunately) and she was trying to get to the O’s by the end of today. Unless the two guys wanted coffees, she figured she had another solid hour or so before the afternoon rush hit. She should probably offer, though. She stepped down from the ladder.

 

“Can I get you guys a drink? Coffee, hot choc, chai?” She smiled, “We even have some teas, too, if that’s more your speed?”

 

The dark-haired one was browsing the shelves, while the blonde was hovering around the middle, not really looking at anything.

 

“Uh, just some takeaway coffees maybe?” he asked, like he didn’t want to disturb her.

 

“Sure!” She ignored the fact that he was, technically, disturbing her. Although shelving books probably wasn’t the most _high-priority_ task she could think of, she woke up that morning with a ferocity that only her vaguely OCD book organizing tendency could satisfy. Coffees, though, she could do with one hand. Asleep. Upside down. So that probably wouldn’t disrupt her mojo too much.

 

“What are you having?” she asked.

 

“I’ll grab a flat white, cappuccino for that asshole,” he tilted his head sideways to indicate the other guy, and she looked over at dark-haired man just in time to see him flip the blond a bird.

 

She smiled, took the money he proffered, and started making the coffees.

 

As the grinder whirred, she asked, “So, you two from around here?”

 

Steve tore his eyes away from the smattering of bruises on the girl’s arm, just below the wrist, and shook his head, “Nah, just drove in from Virginia.”

 

She whistled between her teeth. “Man, you sure you don’t want a double shot? That must have been some drive.”

 

He smiled, “Nah, wasn’t so bad. I had good company, for the most part.”

 

James peeked around the corner and scowled at Steve, who stuck his tongue out at him.

 

“You planning to stick around?”

 

“Yeah, for a bit. I’m starting at Columbia in the fall.”

 

“Hey, we carry a few discounted textbooks that they use, if you wanna come have a look when the semester starts. And if you show your student card, you get a 15% discount for anything in store.” She smiled at him.

 

“Oh cool! Thanks for that …” he paused for her name.

 

“Darcy.” She handed him his coffee.

 

“I’m Steve. And that’s James around the corner. I’m sure we’ll be around.”

 

“Feel free to come in anytime, it gets a little quiet here on weekdays, so I don’t mind if you wanna hang out and study in here.” She turned to see James approaching Steve. She noticed that his left sleeve was empty and pinned up, and tried not to react badly. “Either of you, I mean.”

 

She didn’t have many friends, apart from Jane, the owner of the store and Jane’s boyfriend. They seemed nice, good people.

 

“Thanks, Darcy,” James spoke for the first time, “We’ll be around.”

 

“Have a good day!” Steve wished her as they left.

 

Darcy went back to shelving books, but the ferocity of earlier was gone, replaced with a quiet curiosity about the two men, with their broad shoulders and James’ missing arm. She wouldn’t ask, if either of them came around again, she decided. She would be kind and nice to them, and treat them like every other customer. But she kept some hope in her heart that maybe they could become friends.

 

 

~

Before too long, they were back, and then soon, there wasn’t a time longer than a week where she wouldn’t see one or both of them. The proximity -bought on by the coffee, or the books, or the company- soon bloomed into a friendship with both of them.

They set themselves apart in her mind almost instantly, they weren’t JamesandSteve to her, but James, quieter and reserved, with a sharp sense a humor and a piercing gaze, and Steve, goofy and warm, easy to laugh and make others laugh. They were her favorite regulars. She probably wasn’t supposed to have favorites, but hey, she was a barista, not a teacher!

She was intrigued by their relationship. They shared the casual touches of lovers, and the camaraderie of brothers.

About a month into her knowing the pair, they invited her for dinner. She had to decline. They didn’t understand, and she couldn’t explain, but she had to decline.

~

Darcy had been going home in a better mood than usual. Brock noticed within the first thirty minutes of her being home the first day. After a month of her peppiness, he finally cracked.

 

“What’s got you so hyped up these days?” God, he was such a frat boy sometimes.

 

“Eh, nothing big. My two favorite customers came in today, and Steve makes me laugh so freaking hard, I swear.”

“Oh, he does, did he?” he scowled at her.

 

“Don’t be like that Brock, I’m pretty sure they’re together.”

 

He snorted. “Not like that would stop you,” he muttered under his breath.

 

Darcy sat up, going from annoyed to pissed in a second flat. “Excuse you?”

 

“You heard me.” He took a swig of his beer, “Nothing would stop you.”

 

“Brock, you’re crossing so many of the lines right now.”

 

“Just like you and your new boys, huh? You sucked their dicks yet?”

 

“What the FUCK, Brock?” She jumped up, “I don’t give a fuck what you think about me, but you will NOT speak about them that way!”

 

“Defending their honor, are ya? You’re not exactly proving me wrong here, babe.”

 

“I’m not your fucking babe. Jesus, you’re a psycho. You think I’m gonna stick around after all the shit you’re saying, not just about me, but about my _friends_ too?”

 

In seconds, Brock was on his feet and had his hand wrapped around her throat.

 

“Oh, I’m psycho, am I?” he leered at her. He pushed her back until she was pressed against the wall.

 

“Let me go, Brock.” His hand just tightened around her throat, and she started struggling against him, “You’re _hurting_ me, you fucker.”

 

“Maybe that’ll remind you who you belong to, mm?”

 

“Fucking…,” she reached up to pry his fingers away from her neck, he grabbed her hand and slammed it into the corner of the wall. Darcy felt something fracture. White pain shot up her arm, she closed her eyes against it and went limp.

 

“Yeah, that’s right, bitch.” He squeezed her (probably broken) wrist, and she yelled out in pain. “You remember who owns you now?”

 

Tears were streaming down Darcy’s face, she realized. She hoped he didn’t expect an answer from him, because all that would come out of her mouth was pained moans and profanities.

Brock threw her to the ground, “You try and remember that.”

 

As he walked away, she couldn’t stop herself from getting the last word in.

 

“Fuck you, asshole.”

 

Instantly, he was back. She was already on the floor, so it was nothing to him to pull back his booted foot and start kicking. She raised her arms, ignoring the pain shooting up her right arm, to try to cover her stomach and face, but it didn’t stop the kicks from raining down. It felt like hours, pain shooting all across her front, her chest aching and head spinning.

 

Then it was over.

 

He walked away.

 

She heard him sit down in the living room, breathing heavily.

 

Gingerly, she uncurled herself and reached to her handbag. The pain from that simple movement almost had her passing out, but she paused until it passed, then reached again, repetitively, until she had her phone in her hand. Clumsily, with her left hand, she dialed 911.

 

“911, what’s your emergency?”

 

“I need an ambulance, please, and probably some cops, too.” She winced, “Definitely some cops.”

 

“Okay, ma’am, I’m dispatching some to your location now. I’m getting your address as 44 Mulgrave Drive, is that correct?”

 

She huffed in assent.

 

“Okay, good. They’ll be there soon. Can you tell me what happened, ma’am?”

 

“Heh,” she exhaled, “my boyfriend beat the shit outta me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave feedback! I'd love your thoughts <3
> 
> Thanks for reading xoxo


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